


Ordinary Miracles

by Minoukatze



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 12:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16854346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minoukatze/pseuds/Minoukatze
Summary: A non-smutty k-meme prompt, but one that is close to my heart:) The prompt was that Cullen finds love with an ordinary person.Tamsin is a mage who had escaped from a rioting Circle, finding a new home in Skyhold. With the help of Sera, she also finds love with a handsome Commander.





	1. Chapter 1

“There’s a welcome scent!”   
  
The soldier’s exclamation was met with various noises of agreement from the rest of the troops as they approached Skyhold’s gates. Indeed, Cullen’s mouth watered as the aroma of freshly-baked bread wafted over the group. That aroma intensified as the gates opened to allow them entrance, and the men were met with a cheer from the courtyard. Three large tables heavily laden with loaves of bread awaited them, the loaves handed out freely to the incoming soldiers. Cullen dimly remembered Josephine mentioning a new bakery raising morale amongst the refugees in one of her reports. By the reactions of his men, Cullen could see how effective it was.   
  
Handing out the loaves were Inquisitor Lavellan herself, her impish lover Sera, and a lovely brunette Cullen did not know. Soraya would hand the bread with a grin and respectful nod, Sera with a dirty joke and a smack on the shoulder, and the new woman with a shy smile and gracious mien. There was something very appealing about her demeanor. She looked soft, all curves and rounded edges, lit from within with a sunny glow.   
  
“Commander!” Soraya greeted Cullen with a wave. “Glad to see you back. How was the journey?”  
  
“Blessedly uneventful,” Cullen replied. “I think most of the Venatori stragglers must have cleared off back to Tevinter. Many thanks for the warm welcome, by the way.”  
  
“It was Tamsin’s idea,” Sera gestured to the now furiously-blushing brunette, who nodded, not lifting her eyes from the table. “She’s magic with baked stuff.”  
  
“Thank  _you_ , then,” Cullen addressed the brunette. “This is a wonderful gesture, and I and my men genuinely appreciate it.”  
  
“It’s an honor, Ser,” Tamsin murmured, glancing up for a moment, growing even redder, then stiffly holding out a loaf of bread.  
  
“Bloody hopeless, this one,” Sera giggled.   
  
“Right,” Cullen chuckled, tucking the loaf under his arm. “I’d better be off to the war room for debriefing. Inquisitor?”  
  
“Yes, Ser!” Soraya saluted, then kissed a squirming Sera on the cheek. “Be back in a bit.”  
  
They made their way to the stairs, and Cullen glanced back toward the table. Tamsin was peeking over her shoulder at him, starting and turning back quickly upon his notice. 

As it turned out, the bread donation was not an isolated incident. During his morning jogs around the ramparts, Cullen found that Tamsin awoke early each day to hand out day-old loaves to the less-fortunate refugees. Skyhold woke to the scent of baking bread now, and it was an improvement Cullen hadn’t realized they had needed. The bakery did a roaring trade, and was becoming well known outside of Skyhold for its fanciful creations. Tarts shaped like swans, exquisite little cakes dotted with sugar-spun flowers, robust braided loaves bursting with dried vegetables and herbs left the shop daily, many carefully shipped out to nearby towns in both Ferelden and Orlais. It was a place that would have been better suited to a large town rather than a fort, not that anyone was complaining. Cullen was increasingly intrigued by the busy proprietor, who was very generous with spare treats for the children milling about the doorway. She’d become as much of a fixture of Skyhold as anyone else, and Cullen found himself searching for her bustling form every time he exited the main hall. With his busy schedule, he never had much of a chance to speak with her, but for some reason seeing her about made him smile.  
  
One afternoon, he returned from the barracks to find her delivering a package to the apothecary. Cullen was disturbed to see that her right eye was heavily bruised. He wanted to ask if she needed help in any way, but was intercepted by one of Leliana’s more intrusive agents. By the time the fellow had delivered his message, Tamsin had gone. Cullen found Sera at the tavern later and questioned her about it.  
  
“She swears up and down that she wasn’t paying attention and walked into a pole.” Sera shrugged. “She don’t seem upset or anything. I been havin’ her followed though, just in case. I don’t see anyone messin’ with her so far. If she’s in trouble, I’ll end it quick. Trust.”  
  
“Fair enough.” Cullen smiled. “Still, does she have someone? Someone in particular to keep an eye on?”  
  
Sera raised an eyebrow and flashed a crooked grin. “Nope. But I’ll be sure to let her know you’re  _concerned_ , Cully-Wully.”  
  
“I-er…” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s not necessary. I just wanted to be sure she was all right.”  
  
“Ohhh…” Sera cackled, skipping off. “Oh, I think it’s very necessary. Toodles, Commander.”  
  
“No good deed goes unpunished,” Cullen grumbled to himself, deciding to treat himself to an ale. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Guess who was inquiring about that shiner last night?” Sera grinned, pummeling her dough into submission.  
  
“Who?” Tamsin bit her lip in concentration, piping little pink flowers upon the cake Leliana had ordered for Cassandra’s birthday.  
  
“Commander Dreamy, himself! Wanted to know if you’ve a sweetie and everything.”  
  
“What?” Tamsin jumped, squeezing a shapeless blob all over the side of the cake. “Dammit, Sera! That was mean. You shouldn’t joke like that.”  
  
“No, really! Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.” Sera solemnly swore. “He wanted to make sure no one was hurting you.”  
  
“Well.”  _Damn._  Tamsin turned away, her cheeks burning. “That’s very gentlemanly of him to check up on me.”  
  
“Right. Gentlemanly. Anyway, how’s this dough?”  
  
Tamsin peeked over her shoulder. “Needs just a little more lard, then it’s perfect.”  
  
“Miss Tamsin?” Glenys, Tamsin’s apprentice, peeped through the door. “Mind if I take a break? It’s been two hours.”  
  
“Certainly, I'll get the till.” Tamsin nodded, trying to hide her dismay.  _Excellent. More people to gawk at the black eye._  
  
“No, I’m fine. No one attacked me, I swear.” She assured one customer.  
  
“Yes, I have been to the healer, it’s best if it just clears up on its own,” she told another.  
  
“Completely my fault, no one else’s,” she replied to yet another, only that wasn’t completely true.  
  
That there had been no witnesses was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, she now had everyone demanding to know who had attacked her. On the other, if anyone else been witness to Tamsin’s spill, she probably would have died of embarrassment on the spot. But it really hadn’t been entirely her fault.  
  
Tamsin had been lugging an armful of bread for the usual morning donation when movement on the ramparts caught her eye. She looked up to see Commander Rutherford running along the ramparts.  
  
Running, without a tunic.   
  
That wasn’t fair. She’d never seen him in anything other than armor, and she was completely unprepared for the sight. It was as if time slowed, and as he ran Tamsin was entranced by the way his broad shoulders glistened in the new morning sun, the ripple of his pectorals with each bounce, the determined cast to his face… And then she was on the ground, clutching her forehead, the loaves scattered all around her. She never saw that lamppost coming.

 

*

 

For the first time in weeks, Cullen found himself with a window of free time. With his subordinates trained to his satisfaction, and the destruction of both the Red Templars and Venatori, Thedas seemed to be settling down. Cullen sat at his desk, completely at a loss. He perused the latest letter from his sister, and picked up a quill, ink, and paper to respond. After several minutes of chewing on the quill’s end, hemming and hawing, and finally doodling a bird on the margin, Cullen decided that his response to Mia could wait.   
  
He strolled about the ramparts, watching Skyhold’s inhabitants going about their business, many beginning to close up shop for the day. It was rare that he was able to step back and truly take in just how their sanctuary had flourished. What had been a ruin was now a vibrant community, attracting merchants of all kinds now. Cullen was a man unaccustomed to peace. It felt strange, almost unnatural. He began to tense, his breath quickening, his pulse starting to rush. Now? Really? He tried his usual tricks, concentrating upon a fixed point, tapping a rhythm onto the nearest surface, trying to steady his breathing, but his thoughts still raced, his hands still shook. He leaned heavily upon the stone, silently screaming, eyes darting about, when he caught the scent of sugared bread on the air. He clung to that like a lifeline, followed it down the stairs, through the courtyard, and to the door of the bakery. He inhaled the rich scent of pastry, then opened the door.   
  
The bells jingled as he entered, and Cullen found the shop free of customers.   
  
Tamsin, wiping down the tables, jumped to attention. “Oh! Hello, I-“  
  
“OI! WE’RE CLOSED. PISS OFF.” Sera called from the kitchen.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cullen sputtered. “I’ll-“  
  
“No!” Tamsin assured him. “No, please. You’re very welcome to stay. What can I get you? I have…Ser, are you all right? You look a bit peaked.”  
  
“I’m fine,” he lied, but he realized he was getting there.   
His breath began to steady, as well as his hands and pulse. Walking into the shop was not unlike being wrapped in a warm, comforting blanket. Tamsin raised a skeptical eyebrow, then launched into action.  
  
“You. Sit there. Now.” She guided Cullen to a cozy table near the fireplace. “I know what you need. I’ll be right back.”  
  
Tamsin disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, then returned with a small, uncooked meat and vegetable pie. She quickly brushed the top with what he assumed was butter, hovered her hand over it for a moment, and Cullen noticed a red and yellow flicker engulfing the pie. A minute later Tamsin was bringing it over, a hearty aroma rising from the golden brown crust. Cullen’s mouth watered.  
  
“So,” he began, picking up his fork. “You’re a mage?”  
  
“Um…” Tamsin’s eyes widened. “Yes. I am, sort of. Except, I’m a bad mage. I mean, bad as in quality, not nature. I mean, I passed my Harrowing. Hardest thing I ever did. But I did. Pass it.” Tamsin winced, pressing a hand to her temple. “Ugh. What I mean is, I’m harmless. I can’t hurt anyone to save my life. I speak from experience. I’m not an apostate. You need a napkin.”  
  
She abruptly turned and rushed off, and leaving Cullen more intrigued than ever and hoping she would return. Pondering how to put her more at ease, Cullen absently scooped a bit of the pie into his mouth. The phenomenal flavor took him off-guard, the groan escaping him almost indecent. He chewed slowly, savoring every morsel of perfectly cooked beef, the juicy carrots and peas, the tang of the gravy and buttery, flaky crust. Upon finishing the first bite and going for the second, Cullen realized that, between the atmosphere of the bakery, Tamsin’s attention, and the glorious dish before him; his panic had completely subsided. He took a relieved breath and continued to dig in.

“You’re feeding the interloper,” Sera grumbled, rolling her cookie dough flat. “Gotta stop doin’ that. You need to rest some time.”  
  
“It’s the Commander,” explained Tamsin, opening the linen cabinet.  
  
“Ooooh, well then!” Sera grinned. “Should I clear out?”  
  
“No!” Tamsin shook her head irritably. “Please don’t. He…um…I was stupid. I wasn’t thinking. I cast in front of him.”  
  
“So what? Not like it’s really a secret.”  
  
“I just…I mean…” Tamsin twisted a napkin in her hands. “Wasn’t he a Templar?”  
  
“Whatever. He’s fine with that stuff now. Sorie’s a mage, you know that. He’s fine with her.”  
  
“Yes, but  _she_  saved the world.” Tamsin leaned against the counter. “Gah. I’m just going to stay in here until he’s done. Pretty sure he already has a napkin at the table.”  
  
“The hell you are.” Sera marched over, firmly grasped Tamsin by the shoulders, and propelled her back towards the doors. “Get back out there.”  
  
“But…”  
  
“NOW.”  
  
Tamsin pushed through the doors and found Cullen slowly chewing with a nearly obscene look of pleasure on his face.  _Filing this image for later…_  
  
“Commander?” Tamsin stifled a giggle.  
  
“This is,” he said after finishing the bite, slowly opening his eyes. “The best thing I have ever tasted. By far. Whatever spell you cast, it worked.”  
  
“Um…”  _Damn. Now the blushing starts._  “I-I just cooked it. Nothing fancy. The rest is in the ingredients.”  
  
“I must know.” Cullen gestured her over with wave and a knee-weakening grin. “How does a master chef-mage find herself in the middle of nowhere preparing culinary wonders and giving out free bread every morning, with an underworld queen in her employ?”  
  
“Oh, Sera?” Tamsin slumped into the chair opposite him, as the closer she approached, the less her legs supported her. “She’s not in my employ. It was part of the deal in my gaining this establishment. For some reason she wanted to learn how to make cookies. I wasn’t going to question. She comes and goes as she pleases, but she seems to like baking almost as much as I do.”

“All right.” Cullen leaned forward, smile deepening and amber eyes twinkling with amusement.  _Holy Maker, that smile is a weapon._ “How did Sera find you?”  
  
“Well,” Tamsin began. “I was working for a bakery in Crestwood, and when the Inquisitor and her companions came in I gave them each a free pastry. It was the least I could do. My boss was less than thrilled with my gifts and proceeded to dress me down in front of the entire inn. Sera apparently took a liking to the food, called my boss a couple of…uh…colorful names, and offered me my own bakery at Skyhold on the spot. I thought she was kidding, but went along anyway. Figured Skyhold needed a cook. I wanted to help.”  
  
Cullen raised an eyebrow. “Help? Why?”  
  
“After my Circle was dissolved and all hell broke loose, I had nowhere to go. I headed south with a caravan to see where I could find a new home. We were attacked by bandits, and we would have been slaughtered had an Inquisition patrol not come across us. They saved our lives.” Tamsin tucked a stray tendril back into her hair, where it immediately escaped and fell in front of her eye once more. “I wanted to come to Skyhold anyway, but couldn’t afford the journey. So I stayed in Crestwood, the only place nearby where I could find employment. I was saving up, though, and I vowed I would help in any small way I could.”  
  
“So that’s the reason for the free bread?”  
  
“Well, yes. I mean, it’s just bread that didn’t sell for the day, but I try to supplement it with whatever I can afford.” Tamsin turned her face away, intently studying a crack in the floor. “It’s the best I can do. I can’t fight. I’m an awful enchanter. I can barely heal a papercut. I’m pretty much useless.”  
  
“I would never call the woman who created this magnificent pie useless,” Cullen replied. “From what I have seen, there are a great many here who would take umbrage at that statement. In fact, I’m angry with myself for missing out on visiting this shop for so long. I have so many meetings, oftentimes I forget to eat altogether.”  
  
“That’s completely unnecessary!” Tamsin scolded, finally looking up. “And a good way to get sick! From now on I’ll be sending these to your office, so you have no excuse.”  
  
“Well, I…”  
  
“I won’t take a ‘no,’ Commander.” Tamsin wagged her finger.  
  
“Cullen, please.” He smiled again, and Tamsin felt light-headed. “And I was about to say that I like the excuse to visit the bakery.”  
  
“You…you don’t need an excuse,” Tamsin managed. “I mean, we have other things too, like-“  
  
“Cookies up!” Sera burst through the doors, triumphantly toting a plate. “Check it. Turned out better than I’d hoped.”  
  
Sera plopped a cookie on the table in front of each, just barely restraining a fit of giggles. “Careful, they’re hot.”  
  
“Sera,” Cullen observed. “Are these…”  
  
“BUTTS!” Sera snorted. “They’re all little bums! Now I can give them to folk and tell ‘em to bite my arse.”  
  
She completely lost it then, clutching Tamsin’s chair for support. Her giggles were infectious.  
  
“They’re good!” Tamsin took a second bite. “I think this is your best batch yet.”  
  
“Oh!” A spark of inspiration apparently hitting her, Sera rushed to retrieve a tube of pink icing. She pumped two daubs on one of the cookies.  
  
“And now they’re boobies!” Sera cackled. “Oh, this is brilliant. Versatile. I need to show Sorie.”  
  
She grabbed the rest of the cookies and headed for the door. “Later, mates!”


	3. Chapter 3

Things Cullen now knew about Tamsin: Her eyes were a captivating shade of hazel, dark copper melding into a vibrant green, pupils ringed with gold. Underneath a streak of flour, a light spray of freckles dotted her pert nose and perpetually rosy cheeks. A charming set of dimples appeared when she smiled, which was often. At a distance, her hair was brown, but up close he could see thick waves of russet, some almost golden, some almost raven black, together blending into a rich chestnut and all pulled back into a heavy braid. She was constantly trying and failing to brush stray locks back into that braid, with little success. She blushed easily (which was particularly gratifying), but she lost her bashfulness whenever Cullen asked her about her future creations.  
  
“And since another anniversary of the last Blight’s end is coming up, I wanted to try a Dalish specialty in honor of the Hero of Ferelden. Well, mainly I just wanted to see if I could get my hands on some Dalish recipes in general. This is such a rare opportunity! I…” Tamsin paused. “I’ve been yammering on for ages. I must be boring you to death!”  
  
“Not in the slightest,” Cullen smiled. “It’s refreshing to discuss something other than guard reports and possible threats. Besides, I love to…”  
  
Tamsin’s soft pink lips were slightly parted. He imagined gliding his thumb along their curve, pausing at the little divot, then…  
  
Her eyebrows raised, and Cullen realized he’d trailed off, completely forgetting what he’d been saying.  
  
“You love to…” Tamsin supplied.  
  
“Right. Sorry.” Cullen straightened up in his seat, glancing out the window. “I love to hear about other pastimes. I…I should be off. I’ve taken up enough of your time. Didn’t even notice the sunset!”  
  
Tamsin rose. “Neither did I! I…I really enjoyed speaking with you, Commander.”  
  
“Cullen,” he corrected.  
  
“Right…Cullen.”  _There was the blush, the sweet way she’d cast her eyes down._ “You’re welcome here…um…whenever.”  
  
“I appreciate that.” Cullen nodded. “And what do I owe you for the pie?”  
  
“Oh!” Tamsin waved her hand dismissively. “I’m just happy you stopped by. I just…I just hope you’ll be back from time to time.”  
  
Tamsin stood before him, eyes wide, hands fidgeting, flour streaking her cheek. In her stained apron and messy plait, she was lovelier to him than all of the fine ladies at Halamshiral.   
  
“Most definitely,” Cullen replied, then turned and stepped into the bracing night air. 

 

*

 

“Come in,” Cullen called, and a familiar figure entered the War Room carrying a small pasteboard box.   
  
Cullen reached for his coin, and Glenys interrupted him. “Miss Tamsin says no money, Ser.”  
  
Cullen shook his head. “Fair enough. Thank you, Glenys.”  
  
“Free lunch!” Josephine grinned, raising an eyebrow. “How did you manage that?”  
  
“I made the mistake of saying I forget to eat sometimes,” Cullen chuckled, opening the box. “Now I get free food.”  
  
“I’ll have to try that some time!” Josephine peeked at the contents. “Oh, and look at the lion on the crust! How lovely! I think someone may be sweet on you, Commander.”  
  
“Well,” Cullen rubbed the nape of his neck. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think there’s some interest, but I don’t think that’s why she does it. At least, that’s not the sense I get. I get the feeling it’s just the sort of thing she does. I think she is simply trying to look out for my well-being. However, I would like to return the favor somehow.”   
  
“A gift of some sort?” Josephine offered. “Flowers? Flours?”  
  
“Not a bad idea.” Cullen glanced out the window and happened to catch a glimpse of Loranil milling about the ramparts. “I think I may have it.”  
  
Later on, after he had finished his paperwork, Cullen headed to the bakery. He was relieved to find it, again, devoid of customers, with Tamsin closing up shop. She welcomed him with her usual sunny grin, and gestured to his now usual table. Cullen found he rather liked this new routine.   
  
“I hope I’m not imposing,” Cullen said, taking his seat. “I never seem to make it over here while the bakery is officially open.”  
  
What he did not mention was how he preferred it that way, as he knew Tamsin would not otherwise have time to sit and chat. He enjoyed having her all to himself.  
  
“Of course not,” Tamsin assured him. “Besides, I need someone to test out my new recipes. Speaking of which…”  
  
She disappeared into the kitchen, then returned with a large fairy cake topped with gold-dusted icing.  
  
“Looks fancy,” Cullen remarked.  
  
“Everyone likes fancy from time to time,” Tamsin nudged. “Just try it.”  
  
Cullen took a bite, and nearly giggled with delight at the taste. He was surprised to find it filled with sugar-glazed berries, complementing the feather-light cake and the subtly sweet icing.   
  
“It’s not undignified to like something sweet,” Tamsin admonished, as if she had read his mind.  
  
“It’s wonderful,” Cullen replied, chuckling, “Even if it is the edible equivalent of a pink, fluffy dress.”  
  
They sat for a time, making pleasantries, when Cullen grew pensive.  
  
“Tamsin,” he said quietly. “What did you think of the Circle?”  
  
“Well.” Tamsin fiddled with the tablecloth. “Do you want me to be honest?”  
  
“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”  
  
“I think…” Tamsin’s fidgeting intensified. “It was comfortable in a way, but I don’t know what my life would have been like if I’d never been taken there. I don’t remember my parents. And then, it’s not like I’m a skilled mage, and the ones who are never let you forget it. So, on the outside everyone thinks you’re a freak, but at the Circle, you’re not even good at being a freak. I’ve had friends choose Tranquility because they didn’t think they could pass the Harrowing. I was almost one of them.”  
  
The cake went sour in Cullen’s mouth. “You were?”  
  
Tamsin nodded. “One of the Senior Enchanters recommended it to me when my time came, but I still had a choice. I was terrified, but I decided I would go through with it anyway. I realized I would rather fight and die than lose who I am.”  
  
“I…” Cullen studied her, her downswept lashes, her bitten lip. “I don’t know what to say.”  
  
“That same Enchanter later turned to blood magic during the revolt,” Tamsin added bitterly.  
  
How many mages had Cullen seen made Tranquil? Many had seemed like perfectly decent folk, but he had told himself that they were better off. Cullen had always justified the rite as protecting everyone, always looked at it as a mercy. Now… Tamsin stared determinedly at her lap, chewing her fingernails.   
  
“I…I’m sorry, Tamsin.” Cullen said softly. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. It was none of my business.”  
  
“It’s…” Unable to finish, Tamsin simply shrugged.   
  
“I should go.” Cullen rose, ashamed. “Thank you for the fairy cake.”  
  
Tamsin nodded again, eyes still downcast.

 

*

 

“Headin’ out, mate,” Sera said, flinging a sack over her shoulder.  
  
“Sera,” Tamsin grinned. “You’ve got flour on your nose.”  
  
“It’s not flour, it’s sugar. Gonna have Sorie lick it off.” Sera stuck out her tongue.  
  
“All right then,” Tamsin chuckled. “Have a good night.”  
  
“Tams,” Sera added. “You really should come to the tavern sometime. Starting to think that apron’s permanently attached.”  
  
“I will,” Tamsin replied. “But not tonight. Have to go over today’s sales. Take care.”  
  
“One day, I won’t give you a choice,” Sera grumbled. “G’night.”  
  
Tamsin slowly swept the floor, wiped down the tables, and put up the chairs, saving the table by the hearth for last. It wasn’t until the clock chimed six that Tamsin relented and locked the door. It had been over a week since the Commander’s last visit, and it seemed that he would not be returning.  _Just as well_ , she thought, overwhelmed by a melancholy pall. She should have known he wouldn’t be able to see her as anything but a mage. Not that it stopped her from sending the meat pies, though. That would just be petty.  
It was nice while it had lasted. Tamsin had never thought someone as important (not to mention as staggeringly handsome) as the Commander would ever deign to show interest in her, so it had been a shock when he had made visiting a routine. He had seemed genuinely interested in everything she’d had to say, and there was a sadness, a loneliness in him that she had recognized. Or, at least, she’d thought she’d recognized. Perhaps he’d just felt sorry for her, then moved on.   
  
“Arrrgh!” Tamsin paced angrily about the shop. Sera was right. She should go to the tavern. She should try to make some friends. There were certainly enough mages here that she wouldn’t be seen as an anomaly. She knew she’d recognize many of her customers there. Even so, something held her back, the same old quandary.  _The normal folk will shun you for being a mage, the mages will shun you for being pitiful._  Sera would just tell everyone to piss off. Tamsin had studied her over the past few months, wondering how to capture some of that effortless bravado. Tamsin decided that she just didn’t have it in her.  
  
She glanced out the window, seeing the warm glow coming from the tavern, a blast of jollity rising into the night air as someone opened its doors to be welcomed inside. Tamsin sighed, returned to the kitchen, and gathered the leftover dough for baking. There was work to be done.  
  
*  
  
“Miss?” Glenys peeked her head into the kitchen. “There’s a fellow with a package for you.”  
  
“Bet there’s a few of those. Heh. Package,” Sera snorted, ducking the wad of dough Tamsin chucked at her.  
  
A Dalish man waited patiently in front of the counter, holding a small wrapped parcel. “Ah, so you’re Tamsin?”  
  
“I am,” Tamsin replied. “Wait, I’ve seen you before. You like the almond biscuits!”  
  
“I do!” The elf grinned, handing over the package. “I’m Loranil, and I’m very happy to be giving this to you.”  
  
He lingered, waggling his eyebrows as he nodded at the parcel, clearly inclined to see its contents. Tamsin opened it to find a small leather-bound notebook. Leafing through, she gasped.  
  
“Are these…” She looked up excitedly at Loranil. “These are Dalish recipes! Oh my goodness!”  
  
“Translated them myself,” Loranil replied proudly.  
  
“This is so generous, Loranil!” Tamsin hugged the notebook to her chest. “I don’t know how to thank you!”  
  
“Oh, it’s not me you should be thanking, though I wish I’d thought of it first.” Loranil shook his head. “Look to the last page. Although, if you could make the one on page three, I would be very grateful. I‘ve been feeling rather homesick.”  
  
Tamsin eagerly flipped to the last page, there finding a beautifully-penned note.  
  
_Dear Tamsin,_  
  
_I just wanted to give you a token of my esteem, and my gratitude for your looking after me. I hope that you find these recipes useful._  
  
_With fondness,_  
_Cullen_    
  
Tears pricked Tamsin’s eyes. She turned away quickly to fill a bag with almond biscuits, then shove them into Loranil’s hands.


	4. Chapter 4

_Mages cannot be treated like other people. They’re not like you and me. They are weapons…_  
  
Cullen shuddered at the recollection. It was as if those words had come from another person. He wished they had. What if Tamsin had been at the Kirkwall Circle? He knew that the vast majority of apprentices there were offered no choice for Tranquility.  _It’s for the greater good. They’re happier this way._  The thought of his behavior in Kirkwall made him sick to his stomach.   
  
_I would rather fight and die than lose who I am._  
  
Cullen peered out his window at the cheerful plume of smoke rising from the bakery.  _Maker_ , he probably reminded her of everything she’d ever feared. However, the lunchtime pies kept coming, so she must not dislike him too much. He’d approached the bakery several times, but could not go in. The remembrance of that sweet, sunny woman near tears, staring down at her lap…it was too much.  _I did that._  
  
A knock at the door brought him back. “Come in.”  
  
Loranil strode in, happily munching from a paper bag. “Well, Ser, you told me to let you know when the book was delivered.”  
  
“And what was her reaction?” Cullen leaned forward on his desk.  
  
“She was thrilled! Gave me this bag of biscuits.” Loranil held out the bag, offering a cookie. “You should see for yourself, Ser.”  
  
“I…” Cullen nodded. “Perhaps I shall. Please relay my thanks to your cook friend- Nissa, was it?”  
  
“Will do,” Loranil waved. “After your men brought back the golden halla, I could swear I heard the cheering from here. Anyway, I look forward to the anise bread.”   
  
The afternoon passed, and the sun loomed low on the horizon. Cullen watched the merchant stalls close up for the day, and the various folk ambling off to their homes (or the tavern). He himself began to wander, and eventually found himself at the bakery’s threshold. He reached for the door’s handle. He heard a tinkling of laughter behind the door, and Sera singing a bawdy song in the background. Tamsin sounded happy.  
  
His hand dropped, and Cullen walked back to his Tower.  
  
***  
  
“Uh, Ser?” James, one of Leliana’s messengers, lingered in his doorway. “I’m afraid I have some news.”  
  
It was well past working hours. Cullen bit back a sharp remark. It had to be news of some import.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Ser,” James stammered. “Samson…the Red Templar, he was found hanged in his cell. We don’t know who, but somebody must have smuggled some rope to him. Lady Nightingale is going through the ranks to find out who did this.”  
  
Cullen exhaled heavily. “Thank you, James. Please close the door behind you.”  
  
After the messenger left, Cullen slouched forward in his seat. He never could grasp how Samson had gone so far wrong. Even after hours of interrogation, Cullen could glean nothing but madness. Back when they’d shared quarters in Kirkwall, Samson had been decent, perhaps a bit naïve; reminding Cullen of himself at Kinloch Hold before the fall. What had happened? Cullen wondered for the hundredth time how he had avoided a similar fate. Then he reached for the dusty bottle of rum under his desk.  
  
The first drink was for the man Samson could have been. The second was for all of the Templars Samson had led astray. The third was for Cullen himself, in a rare fit of self pity. The rest…he just wanted to stop thinking about it. It worked, until he passed out at his desk.

 _Kirkwall on fire. Meredith still crystallizing in the courtyard, Lake Calenhad glimmering red in the flames. Wait, that’s not right… Cullen turned, and saw Kinloch Hold looming over Hightown. Shrieking everywhere, people leaping from tall windows and crashing to the stone below._  
  
_“Knight-Captain!” Templar Carver charged up to him. “What do we do? The rest of the Templars are executing every mage they can find. I think…I think the Circle is infested with demons. The screams coming from inside…”_  
  
_“I…I…” Cullen looked around in vain for some clue of where to start._  
  
_In front of the Gallows stood a line of Tranquil, and in front of them stood Ser Alrik, his sword bared. The Tranquil at the head of the queue knelt before Alrik, who swiftly beheaded him. Another Templar dragged the corpse aside, and the unfortunate Tranquil’s place was taken by the next in line, who knelt in turn._  
  
_Cullen broke into a run. “What the hell is going on here?”_  
  
_Alrik gave him a gory grin, flashing a mouth full of spiky red fangs, his eyes black and empty. Cullen roared and plunged his blade into Alrik’s throat, then slashed the Templar who had been aiding him._  
  
_“Ser?”_  
  
_Cullen looked down to find Tamsin kneeling before him. That sunny glow behind her eyes had been snuffed, and a sun was branded black upon her forehead. She stared blankly at him, winding her thick chestnut waves around her hand to hold above her head, baring her throat._  
  
_“Ser, if this helps. We know what must be done.”_  
  
Cullen woke with a start, his head swimming. His office was dark, lit only by moonlight streaming in the windows. He stood and nearly toppled to the side, bracing himself upon his desk. The empty bottle of rum rolled off and crashed to the floor.   
  
He needed to see her. He needed to see for himself that she was still all right, that the light still shone in those hazel eyes. Cullen lurched out his door and onto the ramparts, leaning against the walls for balance as he made his way down the steps, shambling toward the bakery. There was no sign of light in the windows, nor any signs of life. The courtyard was quiet as a tomb. Cullen’s heart began to race. What time was it? He would apologize later. He just needed to see her.

***

Tamsin jolted awake to the sound of hammering. She immediately launched herself out of bed, tripped over a slipper, and grazed her knee. After a few moments, she realized the hammering was someone banging on her door.  _I overslept?_  Couldn’t be, it was still the dead of night.  _Maybe they’ll leave?_  No such luck. The impatient customer relentlessly battered her door to the point that Tamsin worried it would fly off its hinges.  
  
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Tamsin lit a lamp and blearily stumbled from her small quarters into the shop. “What could you possibly need at this time of night?”  
  
“Please…please, just let me see you for a moment…”  
  
“Commander?” Tamsin warily unlocked and opened the door. “Are you all right?”  
  
“Please, may I come in?” Cullen leaned upon the threshold, swaying where he stood.  
  
“Of course, Commander.” Tamsin guided him to his usual spot, lighting the hearth and the lamps.  _Maker, he smells like a still!_  “Are you all right?”  
  
Cullen refused to sit. “Wait, let me see you.”  
  
He brushed the hair from her forehead, then peered intently into her eyes. Tamsin waited for him to pull back. And waited. And waited…  
  
“Commander?” She said finally, nearly catching a contact high from his breath.   
  
“You’re all right?” he replied softly, cupping her chin in her hands. “Tamsin…”  
  
She had dreamed of this moment many, many times, in various situations, locations, and…positions. Tamsin took a deep breath and stepped back, her head spinning.  _Not like this._  
  
“Yes, Commander, I’m fine.” Tamsin replied evenly. “Please, let me get you some water and something to eat.”  
  
“Cullen.” He grasped her shoulders, his face twisted in anguish. “I need you to call me Cullen.”  
  
“Right. Cullen.” Tamsin stumbled back into the seat behind her. “I think…”  
  
Cullen fell to his knees sobbing, laying his head in her lap and wrapping his arms around her calves. “I’m so sorry….I’m so sorry…”  
  
“Cullen!” Tamsin cried, alarmed, mind searching frantically for excuses to extricate herself. “You haven’t done anything wrong! I don’t understand!”  
  
“I need you to understand…” Cullen replied heavily. “Samson died tonight.”  
  
_Samson…Samson…_  “He was the Red Templar?”  
  
“He was good, once. Liked mages, befriended them. I’d thought him a fool at the time,” Cullen began. “I…I’d hated your people, then tolerated them at best. You must understand.” Cullen gaped up at Tamsin, eyes wide like a frightened child’s. “I was at Kinloch Hold when it fell. The mages and demons kept me caged for weeks, barely alive, torturing me. I was the only one left. They kept me alive, and I don’t know why. Why me? They ripped apart my friends one by one. They made me watch…”  
  
Tamsin struggled to maintain some level of composure, and failed completely. She allowed the tears to escape, then instinctively began to stroke Cullen’s mussed curls. He settled his head back onto her lap, calming slightly.  
  
“I just wanted the world to make sense,” he continued. “Templars were order, mages were chaos. I was keeping the people of Kirkwall safe. But that was all wrong as well. Why do the insane so often come into power? And why do so many follow them without question?”  
  
“I don’t know, Cullen,” Tamsin murmured, still twining her fingers in his hair.  
  
“How do I know that won’t happen to me?” Cullen asked. “How do I know I’m doing the right thing?”  
  
“Well,” Tamsin pondered. “Do your colleagues agree on everything?”  
  
“Rarely,” Cullen replied.  
  
“Do you listen to them, nonetheless, even if you don’t agree with them?” Tamsin continued.  
  
“I do,” Cullen replied.   
  
“Then I think you’re safe,” Tamsin said gently. “If everybody’s telling you the same thing because they’re afraid of you, or if you’re ever afraid to disagree with someone, then you should worry. And from what I’ve heard, in the end you stood up for my kind in Kirkwall even when it would have been easy to condemn us all, even at the risk of your life. Even after all you’ve endured. You’ve a good heart, Cullen, and a strong spirit. That you do question these things even now shows it.”

Tamsin could feel Cullen’s body ease against her, his grip on her legs slackening. Her feet tingled as circulation returned. He sighed, a faint smile curling his lips.  
  
“You’re very wise, Tamsin.” He began to stroke her foot, then kiss the fingertips of her free hand. “I should ask your counsel more often. I…” He sighed again. “I could fall asleep here.”  
  
“I...uh...that’s not a good idea,” Tamsin guided him to his feet, then into her chair, now rather unsteady herself. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”  
  
_All right, if you think about this you’re going to start hyperventilating._  Tamsin set to work on two brews, stirring with one hands, boiling with the other. She hoped she wouldn’t have to wake Cullen up by the time she was finished. Fortunately, Cullen sputtered awake when she opened the doors.  
  
“Drink this first,” Tamsin set down a mug.  
  
“What’s the other one for?” Cullen asked.  
  
“To get the taste of the first one out of your mouth,” Tamsin answered. “Now drink. You’ll thank me for it in the morning, if not now.”  
  
Cullen drank, then coughed. “Maker, this tastes like sewer water!”  
  
“You’ve tasted sewer water?” Tamsin remarked dryly. “Finish it. I know it’s awful, but you’ll be the better for it when you wake.”  
  
Cullen pulled a face, then quaffed the rest. Tamsin handed him the second mug, which he downed gratefully.  
  
“All right,” Tamsin rose, offering her hand. “You’re in no state to go back to your quarters. You’re staying here.”  
  
Cullen followed Tamsin to her bedchamber without question, then immediately began to shed his armor. It was obviously a reflex at this point. He was down to his linen breeches in a moment.  _Oh sweet Maker…_  He was even more perfect close up, despite the scars. Perhaps because of them. Tamsin fought the urge to trace them with her finger.  
  
“I…whoa…” Tamsin knew she had to be red as a beet. She gestured to her bed. “All right! In you go. I’ll see you in the morning. Feel free to sleep in as long as you like.”  
  
Cullen obeyed, stretching out under the covers. He reached out to her.   
  
“Won’t you stay?” He pleaded, sounding more like a young boy than the commander of the Inquisition forces. “I just want to hold you …”  
  
“No, Cullen.” Tamsin tucked him in tightly. “Go to sleep. Good night.”


	5. Chapter 5

The morning felt old when Cullen finally awoke, and even then he was unready to stir. The bed was entirely too cozy, squashy and soft and covered in thick quilts. The air was heavy with the aroma of buttery brown sugar and baking apples, warm and soothing and heavy. Cullen smiled muzzily, flexing his legs and burrowing further under the covers. He hadn’t slept this well since…well, he couldn’t remember sleeping this well. It was at that point he realized that his bed was never this comfortable. Also, the room lacked a very familiar draft…  
  
Cullen’s eyes snapped open, and he bolted up sharply. He sat in a humble but pleasant little bedroom, worn but cheerfully embroidered curtains in the window, a vase of wildflowers on the sill, his armor piled neatly upon a scuffed but sturdy chest of drawers. He found a carafe of fresh water and a plate of bread and cheese on the little doily-covered table next to the bed.  
  
Snatches of the previous evening began to come back to him. His head should be throbbing, but Cullen felt…fine. More than fine, actually, rested. Incredible. It must have been that foul brew Tamsin had foisted upon him. Tamsin…  
  
_Holy hell…_  
  
Cullen wanted to dive back under the covers. He’d pretty much thrown himself at her last night, not to mention blubbering all over her lap.  _Maker, what she must think…_  He had no idea how he could make up for this. Hell, he didn’t know how he was going to exit the room with any semblance of dignity. Cullen peered out the window. The denizens of Skyhold milled about as normal, and the sun loomed high in the sky. He had a meeting at three. He had to leave at some point. Cullen huffed a sigh, and stood. Armor first, then he’d face the rest.   
  
After briefly wondering if he’d fit through the window, Cullen resigned himself to leaving through the bakery.  _How important is this meeting again?_  Raising his head high, Cullen strode down the hallway and through the wooden door ahead. Before him stood the exact last person in Skyhold he wanted to see.  
  
“Ayup, who goes…” Sera exploded into gales of laughter. “WHOA-HO-HO! Cully-Wully and the stride of pride! ‘Bout bloody time, mate! OI, TAMS! WHY DIDN’T YA SAY?”  
  
“Sera…” Cullen winced. “It’s not…”  
  
Tamsin came charging through the swinging doors. “Do you mind, Sera? I don’t think quite everyone in Skyhold heard you. Oh…” She nodded to Cullen. “Good afternoon. Uh…how are you feeling?”  
  
“I’m well,” Cullen replied stiffly, ignoring Sera’s giggles. “Thank you very much for looking after me. It’s much appreciated.”  
  
“You’re very welcome, Ser,” Tamsin replied steadily. “Would you like anything to eat? No comment, Sera.” She added pre-emptively, as Sera opened her mouth.  
  
“Ah, no,” Cullen headed toward the door. “I should be getting on…”  
  
“Did you realize there’s a side exit toward the back?” Tamsin added.  
  
“Damn,” Sera rolled her eyes.  
  
“Oh, thank the Maker,” Cullen breathed.  
  
“Let me show you,” Tamsin smiled.

***

“So nothing happened,” Sera pressed, dumping a handful of raisins into her bowl.  
  
“Not a thing,” Tamsin repeated. “He showed up, a little worse for wear from the tavern, I assume, and I couldn’t let him up all of those steps in the state he was in. So I gave him my tried and true hangover cure and tucked him in.”  
  
“Boooooring,” Sera groaned, stirring. “No shenanigans  _at all_?”  
  
“I wouldn’t take advantage!” Tamsin replied, affronted.   
  
“I didn’t mean  _that_ …” Sera corrected. “I mean… General Uptight turns up on your doorstep pissed to the gills and…that’s it? He came to  _you_. He weren’t in the tavern, I’dve seen him! Come on, you’re giving me nothing!”  
  
“There is nothing to tell,” Tamsin replied coolly.   
  
“Pfft.” Sera rolled her eyes. “Still. Curly. Shitfaced. Popping over to the baker in the middle of the night. Can’t wait to tell Sorie…”  
  
Tamsin frowned. “All right. What will it take to keep this quiet?”  
  
Sera raised an eyebrow. “Fine. Make an offer.”  
  
Tamsin discussed her terms, and Sera very grudgingly agreed.  
  
“All right,  _fine._ ” Sera replied. “Worth it. But still…why’s this such a big deal? Why’s it so shameful for a man to spend the night with a pretty girl? Is it that he’s too bloody important to be seen with the baker?”  
  
“That’s not it…” Tamsin sputtered. “You weren’t there. He wasn’t in a good way, and that’s all I’m going to say.”  
  
Sera shrugged. “Fair enough. Not a further word from me. You better keep your end of the bargain.”  
  
“I’ll do it now, if you like,” Tamsin suggested.  
  
“Too right!” Sera shoved her mixture aside. “Let’s do this!”

 

***

 

Tamsin crossed the courtyard, box in hand, bee in bonnet, heading straight for Cullen’s office. She wasn’t angry exactly, or even annoyed. What Sera had said stuck with her, like a stubborn apple pip in the teeth. Why  _was_  he so embarrassed? No one would have known the real reason he would have been leaving out of the kitchen of the bakery. Tasmin decided that she would deliver the pie herself that day. She just about ran out of steam, though, when she reached his threshold. She lingered, glancing about nervously, realizing she’d made a massive mistake. She was about to head back when the door burst open.  
  
One of Leliana’s messengers nearly crashed into Tamsin on the way out of Cullen’s office. “Oh sorry, ma’am!  
”  
“Oh, hello!” Tamsin chirped, seeing a possible solution to her conundrum. “Any chance you could take this to…”  
  
“Tamsin?”  
  
_Damn…_  
  
“Hello, Commander!” Tamsin waved weakly.  
  
Cullen returned the wave. “Well, this is a lovely surprise! Come in!”

Tamsin entered, and Cullen shut the door behind her.  
  
“You persist in calling me ‘Commander.’” Cullen frowned. “I would thought that by now we had progressed beyond such formalities. Unless…you wish our relationship to remain formal.”  
  
“No,” Tamsin began, handing over the box. “It’s just a reflex, I suppose.”  
  
“Good,” Cullen replied, setting the box upon his desk. “Care to join me? I could use some company.”  
  
Tamsin shook her head, starting for the door. “I have to get back to the bakery.”  
  
“Oh.” Cullen bowed his head. “Very well. I guess…I need to thank you for everything, especially the discreet exit.”  
  
Tamsin halted, facing away from him, taking a deep breath. “I have to ask.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Is the concept of being with me really so humiliating?” Tamsin clenched her jaw, steeling herself for the response.

“What?” Cullen broke into a grin. “Tamsin, of course not!”  
She was not prepared for that smile.  _Maker,_  she was never prepared for that smile. “Then why were you so unwilling to leave out of the front door?”  
  
“Tamsin…” Cullen walked over to her. “I’m not fond of attracting attention. It makes me very uncomfortable. Had I walked out of the kitchen every eye in the shop would have been on me, and then the whispers would start. And then, as soon as you returned, it would happen to you. Some people, like Iron Bull or Sera, for example, love those moments, and that’s fine. I’m not one of them, and I’m guessing neither are you.”  
  
Tamsin relaxed. “True.”  
  
“And besides,” Cullen added. “Since Sera did see me, I’ve no doubt half of Skyhold knows already, and the rest will know by tomorrow.”  
  
“Not a chance,” Tamsin assured him. “I’ve bribed her into silence.”  
  
“Really?” Cullen raised his eyebrows. “How did you pull that off?”  
  
“I’ve been dangling my lemon drop recipe over her ever since I came here. They’re her favorite, you see. I’d been waiting for her birthday to hand it over, but…it came in handy,” Tamsin explained.  
  
“Well, I appreciate the effort, even if it weren’t necessary.” Cullen replied, amused. “I’m just amazed you’d want to be seen with  _me_ , given my atrocious behavior last night.”  
  
“What?” Tamsin was taken aback. “Cullen, your behavior wasn’t atrocious. You were hurt and upset, and you came to me for comfort. I’m honored that you felt that you could. I’m always here if you need me.”   
  
“That is…,” Cullen’s beaming smile doubled in intensity. “That means a great deal to me. Thank you.”  
  
Tamsin, struck dumb, blushed and nodded to her feet.  
  
“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Cullen cajoled. “There’s more than enough food for both of us.”  
  
“I really can’t,” Tamsin replied regretfully. “It’s only Glenys in the shop right now, and she gets overwhelmed pretty easily. But…maybe you can come by later for dinner.”  
  
“I’d like that.” Cullen stepped closer, tipping her chin up with his knuckle. “Tamsin…”  
  
“Yes?” Tamsin managed to squeak.  
  
“I’m very fond of you,” he murmured.  
  
The air seemed to crackle with electricity. Tamsin felt as if she were going to burst into a million quivering pieces. Time seemed to pause, Cullen leaning toward her in one infinite moment, and then…his lips brushed against hers. The tiniest whimper escaped her mouth into his, and he pulled her closer. The kiss deepened, the world around her seeming to turn warm, liquid. Tamsin dissolved, melted against Cullen, his chin rough against hers.   
  
He pulled back softly. “Was…was that all right?”  
  
“Very much so.” Tamsin sighed, lightheaded, stroking his cheek. “I should be getting back to…to…”  
  
“The bakery?” Cullen smiled, releasing her.  
  
“Yes.” The chamber suddenly felt much colder. “Yes. That place. I need to go back to there. I’ll see you later?”  
  
“Most definitely.” Cullen assured her.   
  
Tamsin barely avoided colliding with the door on the way out. 

 

*

 

“So, Cullen,” Josephine remarked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so…how would you describe it, Leliana?”  
  
“Bubbly, I would say,” Leliana remarked.  
  
“Yes,” Josephine cheered. “Bubbly! I don’t think we’ve ever seen you smile so much, all through the entire meeting.”  
  
“I wonder if it has something to do with the pretty baker I saw leaving your office earlier today,” Soraya added with a wink.  
  
Cullen grinned, rubbing his neck. “It certainly may.”  
  
“Oh look, he’s blushing!” Leliana giggled.  
  
“This is fun!” Josephine clapped her hands. “We need details!”  
  
“Perhaps later,” Cullen replied, deftly ducking away from the three women and heading for the War Room door. “Until tomorrow!”  
  
He made it about halfway to the Great Hall before a skinny arm shot out of the stairwell and caught his arm.  
  
“We need to talk, Noodles,” Sera snarled as she dragged him downstairs.   
  
She led him to the meat locker in the kitchen, then whirled around, hands on hips. “So, you’re actually gone and kissed Tams.”  
  
“She said?” Cullen asked.  
  
“Didn’t have to. She’s been giggly and dreamy all day, bumping into stuff and almost dumping salt in the sugar cookies. Bloody menace. Anyway, you…” Sera poked an accusing finger at his chest.  
  
It was amazing how someone so slight and small could be so intimidating. Cullen stepped back instinctively, colliding with a side of beef.   
  
“You better treat her right,” Sera continued. “She’s good people, a rare sort. And she’s been sweet on you forever. So. Here’s terms. You break her heart, I break your face.”  
  
“Sera, I…” Cullen started, but Sera waved a silencing hand.  
  
“She already don’t think she’s good enough for you,” Sera cut him off. “Don’t you ever make her feel like that. Not ever. Don’t you dare hide her like a dirty secret, tiptoeing away like you did today.”  
  
“Sera, it wasn’t…”  
  
“You promise me you got good…I dunno…intentions.” Sera demanded.  
  
“I swear.” Cullen placed his hand upon his heart. “I have only the best of intentions. I know that Tamsin is special, and I shall treat her as such.”  
  
Sera finally eased up. “I seen this sort of thing go south way too often, even in the Red Jennies. Folk get too big for their britches. I know you’re good people too, Cully-Wully. I just needed to make sure.”  
  
“She’s lucky, having friends like you to look out for her,” Cullen replied mildly.  
  
“Too right she is!” Sera puffed. “Anyway, I gotta go do…stuff. Later, mate.”  
  
Cullen paused, scratching his chin.  _Special…How could I make her feel special?_  He knew what to expect that evening. He would arrive as she closed up shop, they would sit together at the usual table with a wonderful dinner she had made, chatting about their day. This time, though, he could perhaps steal a few kisses. It would be lovely. Well, lovely for him. Cullen wished he could take her on a proper date.  _Hold on…_  
  
“Sera!” Cullen called, running to catch up with her. “Sera, wait!”  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I need your help.” Cullen told her his plan, hoping that it would meet approval.  
  
Sera let out a boisterous, barking laugh. “Oh, that is tooth-rotting! Perfect. Yeah, come on! Let’s do this.”

 

*

 

The last customer waved, heading out the door, and Tamsin closed up shop. She quickly wiped down the tables and was about to move on to the kitchen when Sera burst through the threshold. Sera grasped Tamsin’s elbow with one hand and toted a large sack with the other, dragging Tamsin back toward her bedchamber.  
  
“Right,” Sera commanded, laying the sack upon Tamsin’s bed. “You’re going to wash up, then check the bag.”  
  
“Sera,” Tamsin argued. “I have to start dinner. Cullen…”  
  
“No, you’re not.” Sera folded her arms and blocked the door. “Just trust me. Wash up. You’re covered in flour and dough.”  
  
Tamsin did so, knowing full well that there was no point in protesting further. She quickly splashed her face with cold water and wiped the remnants of her workday from her face. She cleaned the excess dough from under her nails, undid her braid and brushed the tangles and wisps of flour from her thick mane. Once finished, she turned back to Sera for further instruction.  
  
“The bag.” Sera nodded toward the sack.  
  
Tamsin opened it, plunging her hand inside. She gasped, and upended the sack. In a rustling of sumptuous fabrics, a burgundy velvet and lace gown unfurled upon the bed, together with a matching cloak.   
  
“Just put it on,” Sera ordered, turning around.  
  
It wasn’t the fanciest dress, simple in cut and embellishment. It was still, however, the loveliest piece of clothing Tamsin had ever owned. She laced up the front, then ran her hands over the soft, fuzzy fabric. She admired herself in the looking glass, the color of the gown nicely accenting her chestnut waves and the golden cast to her skin. It suited her nicely.  
  
“Done yet?” Sera turned around. “Phoar, don’t we look pretty! It’s not the poshest, but best we could find on short notice. Besides,” Sera reasoned, pinning the cloak. “If you started dressing all flash like Viv, it would just look weird.”  
  
“Sera.” Tamsin feared she’d start tearing up. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”  
  
Sera opened her mouth, but was interrupted by the jingle of the front door opening. “Well, that should be your man. Have fun, right? I’ll have Glenys clear up the kitchen.”  
  
She patted Tamsin’s velvety shoulder as Tamsin made her way into the shop. Cullen stood waiting, a bouquet of flowers in hand and in formal dress.  _Is this real?_  
  
His eyes lit up when she walked into the room. “ _Maker_ , Tamsin, you are beautiful.”  
  
“I…thanks…I…” Tamsin babbled. “You…you look so dashing.”  
  
Cullen smiled, and the room seemed to double in brightness. 

  
He offered his arm. “Come. Let’s go for a walk.”

Tamsin hooked her arm in his, and together they strolled into the courtyard. Cullen led her up the stairs to the ramparts, making small talk as the wind whipped around them.  
  
“Where are you taking me?” Tamsin asked.  
  
“You’ll see,” Cullen replied, lips curved.  
  
They climbed steps upon steps, until Cullen paused in the center of one of the walkways.   
  
“Here,” he said, gesturing to the view. “Here is my favorite place in all of Skyhold.”  
  
The sun was dipping low in the sky, a sky painted in a riot of color. The mountains glowed pink and orange and blue in the sunset, the roofs of the newly-built barracks far below catching the glimmer secondhand. Tamsin’s mouth dropped open as she leaned on the cold stone rampart, barely feeling the chill.  
  
“I never see the sunset here,” she breathed. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  
  
She glanced at Cullen, who was ignoring the splendor before them. He was intently watching Tamsin, studying her, really, his expression unreadable. Tamsin blushed and turned back to the mountains.  
  
“I try to catch it whenever I can.” Cullen said finally, his hand finding hers on the stone. “I figured you don’t get to see it too often, as you’re always working. I’m always here alone. I’m just…I’m just happy to share this with you.”  
  
He leaned in, brushing her arm, and Tamsin leaned back. He curled his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and Tamsin lay her head on his lapel. He planted a peck on the top of her head, and they watched the sun as it sank down into the horizon, pulling the vibrant colors down with it. When just the barest glimmer of pale blue lined the mountains, Cullen enfolded Tamsin into his arms, stroking her cheek with a calloused finger.  
  
“Sweet Tamsin,” he murmured. “I’m so glad you’re here.”  
  
And then he was kissing her again, the colors of the sky blooming in her head, her blood fizzing and jumping in her veins. Tamsin sighed, nearly going limp and boneless in his arms. She felt a growl rumble from the back of his throat, and a fierce liquid joy filled her, pooling in her nether regions.  _Holy Maker…_  
  
When Cullen pulled back, all light had faded from the sky save the diamond twinkle of stars. Cullen exhaled heavily, resting his forehead against hers.  
  
“We should head to the tavern,” he said softly. “The best table and second best dinner in Skyhold should be waiting for us. Tamsin…” He cupped her chin in his palms. “I wish I could do better.”  
  
“What?” Tamsin laughed. “You’ve just shown me the finest view of all of Thedas. Cullen, this has been a dream come true.”  
  
“Really?” He seemed almost bashful, his eyes soft and questioning.  
  
“Really,” Tamsin assured him. “I’m just happy to be with you, when it comes down to it.”  
  
Cullen pulled her into a tight hug. “The feeling is very mutual. Tamsin…” He withdrew just enough to capture her gaze. “I want this to be the start of something wonderful.”  
  
“Cullen,” Tamsin grinned, wondering if one could physically burst with joy. “I believe it is.”


End file.
